


you whose heart would sing of anarchy

by moss_time



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: 5+1 Things, ??? I dont know, Fatt typical angst, M/M, Spring in Hieron Spoilers, Time Skips, sometimes the world is slowly ending and you dont know what to do about it and thats okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moss_time/pseuds/moss_time
Summary: That cliché 5+1 things, or five times Ephrim initiated a hug and one (1) time he didn't.





	you whose heart would sing of anarchy

“It's Fero!”

His joyful laugh rings through the chilly morning air as Ephrim scoops him in a hug. It's clumsy, their height difference making the position funny.

 _I thought you were dead_ , goes unsaid. _We thought you were all dead._

Nowadays it's almost easier to expect people to be gone forever than have hope that they would return. And even if they return...what's left of the Last University is not doing the best, and Ephrim, as much as he'd like to pretend otherwise, couldn't promise complete safety and comfort to Fero or anyone who might arrive. 

He feels Fero's arms tighten around his neck for just a moment before they break apart, and Ephrim ignores how he immediately misses the warmth and proximity of the hug. 

 

***

 

Throughout the long years Ephrim has figured that Fero is not that fond of hugging. Or perhaps it's just that he's not fond of anyone here, he thinks as Fero leaves the walls of University in favor of living outside. Sure, he still helps them out, supplies them with food, but Ephrim rarely sees him around. 

So it's a result of selfishness, the first time Ephrim actively seeks out Fero. 

It's the first time he actually walks to his place, the house in the woods, tiny but cozy place. It's cold outside, wind blowing and rain furiously falling since the morning. 

He finds Fero laying across his bed, carving something small out of wood. Ephrim stands at the door takes the place in. There's not much, few pieces of wooden furniture, a bunch of dried flowers and leaves scattered on the floor. Across the floor, he spots a few rocks thrown around too. 

He clears his throat. “Hello?”

With a soft grumble Fero lifts his head. “What do you need?”

What does he need? Ephrim wants to say that he's not here to ask something of him but it isn't true, not quite. He needed to get out of there. He needs to talk to someone else who is not Corsica or Red Jack, about something that has nothing to do with their responsibilities and how bad things are going. He knows. He sees. He notices how Throndir looks more tired day by day. How Rosana is slowly losing hope that her husband is coming back home. And well, this place is not even a real home. Not yet. 

But he isn't about to unload all of that on Fero. There isn't a version of that conversation that would go well. 

“Just to talk,” he says instead. “Or not. I just wanted to get out of there for a bit.”

After a moment of quiet considering Fero scoots a bit to make space on the bed for him. “Okay.”

Relieved, Ephrim sits down on a comfortable bed. It's surprising, considering the fact that it's just a mattress positioned on the floor. He saw what little Fero had with himself when he left the walls of University, he had to get the furniture from somewhere else. Then he realises that this house wasn't here before, meaning he had to build it, along with the rest of the handful furniture here. He has to admit it's impressive. 

They sit there in comfortable silence, and Ephrim thinks dimly, how he can see now why Fero left to live here. It's not a way of life he can see himself in long term, but it's true that it feels so far away from their issues about the lack of resources and impending doom. It's relaxing, at least for a moment. 

He closes his eyes and leans against the wall behind him. The silence, broken only by cicadas and sound of a knife cutting wood, almost lulls him to sleep. Then Fero groans. Ephrim opens an eye to look at him and makes a sound of acknowledgement. 

“The wood is bad here,” Fero explains, frustration obvious in his voice. 

“Sorry?”

“This wood. It sucks,” he waves his hand around. “I can't make anything right.”

Ephrim peers over Fero's shoulder to take a look at what he's carving. It takes him a moment, rough edges making it harder to make out the figure, but once he sees it it's obviously a small bird. 

“It looks good,” he says, quiet, as if speaking louder would disrupt a peaceful moment that they finally have. Which is hard to get, what with finding themselves in these miserable circumstances and Fero being just generally difficult to talk to without having a fight. 

Fero makes an annoyed sound, something in between a sigh and a groan. “I can do better.”

“That doesn't make it bad.”

Later, Ephrim would blame the sleepiness and stress for not thinking before leaning his head on Fero's shoulder, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. He feels Fero relax after a moment and slowly continue carving the wooden bird. 

He wakes up to a cold empty room and promptly makes his way back to the University. 

 

***

 

Fero is getting ready to leave for the Isles of Flight when Ephrim finds him. 

To be fair, getting ready is a generous term, he's really just sitting under a tree there and waiting for the rest of the party to show up. As Ephrim walks closer Fero rasies his head and scowls at him.

“What is it,” he grumbles, eyebrow raised. He looks annoyed, which isn't unusual for Fero, but this time it seems like Ephrim in particular might be the reason for his bad mood. Then again, it's hard to tell with Fero. When he's angry he's angry at everyone. 

He could ask and inevitably start a fight, but Ephrim decides he'd rather not spend this short time he has before Fero leaves like that. 

“Just coming to say goodbye,” he says. “Wish the three of you good luck.”

Fero scoffs and looks away. “You should wish luck to the Isles, _Lord_ Ephrim.” 

The mocking way Fero pronounces the title doesn't escape him, it's really not worth it though, so Ephrim decides to ignore it. For now. “That too.”

They spend next few minutes in silence while they wait for Hella and Lem to arrive. Unlike the time in Fero's house, this is a long, awkward silence. Ephrim ponders the cause of Fero's faul mood, which proves to be both difficult and not, because it could be anything. But there's the fact that Lem is back, bringing back certain memories, and there's also, seemingly, his new title. It's probably both. Fero has an unique ability to be angry at everything at once all the time. How it doesn't exhaust him, Ephrim can't figure out. 

The other two seem to be taking their sweet time, it takes them long enough that when they do show up Ephrim is already feeling extremely stupid for coming out here in the first place. 

Finally, they say their goodbyes and when he's done talking to Hella, Fero has already turned around and looks ready to walk away. Ephrim takes his chance and wraps his little friend in a quick, one arm hug. It earns his a surprised and kind of grumpy sound and he feels Fero put a hand on his back, not for long, and then he pulls away. 

“Stay safe,” Ephrim mumbles while he's still in the earshot. 

They make eye contact for a second as the party walks away, unreadable expression on Fero's face. Ephrim wishes them luck one last time and goes back to where he's needed.

 

***

 

“By the way, when's the funeral?” Fero asks. He sounds, rightfully, like he hadn't even thought about them burying his friend without him. 

Ephrim winces and hopes no one noticed. 

There are a few long moments of silence, Fero's wild eyes darting from Hadrian to Throndir and finally settling on Ephrim. And maybe he was wrong, maybe Fero has considered this scenario but pushed it aside, because he can see a question in his friend's eyes that he desperately doesn't want to answer. But no one else speaks. 

Ephrim tries his hardest to not break eye contact. He owes him that much, all their differences aside. “Two days ago.”

A beat. 

“Two days from now?” Fero tries. 

Internally, he winces again. “Ago.”

“Ago?” 

“Yeah.”

“Already did?” There's a sort of stubbornness in his look and Ephrim wants this conversation to end, wants to have any other answer for him. But there's so little he can do, it's almost nothing. 

“I can...bring you to the gravesite, if you'd like to visit, but yeah. We've already done the funeral.”

There's another moment of silence, during which Ephrim expects, as well as others probably, for Fero to get angry and yell at them, call them the worst and stomp out of the room, as he usually does. He thinks that this time he wouldn't blame him for feeling betrayed. 

None of that happens though, Fero just quickly looks away from him. “That's okay. I can find it,” he adds, voice lighter than Ephrim expected it. 

The conversation continues away from the grim topic but Ephrim finds it hard to keep his mind off of it. His eyes linger on Fero as he grimaces at Uklan Tel's experiment, seemingly not bothered by them not waiting for him at all. It is both relieving and...weird, he guesses. He's not sure how he feels about it, because sure, he doesn't like fighting with Fero, but he can't tell if his calmness comes from acceptance or if it's just him bottling up his feelings, something he would not expect from him of all people. He's always been open about his emotions and opinions, as long as Ephrim has known him. That hasn't always gotten them in the best situations, right now though, he finds himself wishing he could see what Fero is feeling. 

Once people start leaving the hall, tired and irked from the tense discussion, Ephrim steps closer to Fero, intention clear in his head. 

Of course, he's noticed immediately. Fero looks up and it's a moment eerily similar to the last time they saw each other, before the party left, only then there was bitterness in Fero's eyes, where now there's just a silent question. Ephrim sighs. This could go badly. 

“Are you okay?” 

Fero blinks at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah?”

“I'm sorry–”

“Sorry about what?”

“About Samol,” he sighs. He notices Fero's lip flinch and momentarily he loses whatever he was going to say. Really, there isn't much he can say. “I suspect this is hard for you, since you spent a long time with him. I'm sorry.”

Fero looks at him wordlessly, his expression softening. In that moment it seems like he's not looking at Ephrim but somewhere past him, at nothing in particular. Then he snaps back and frowns again. Ephrim is almost glad to see the familiar crease between his eyebrows instead of that far-away stare. 

“It's fine,” Fero says finally. “Thank you.”

Slowly, so it's obvious what he's trying to do, Ephrim puts a hand of Fero's shoulder. When he doesn't move or protest he gently pulls him in a hug, hoping that he's not overstepping any boundaries. It doesn't seems like he is. Fero returns the hug and Ephrim feels the relief overtake him. It's okay. Life is loss. They're going to be okay. 

 

***

 

On one warm night, after an especially difficult day, Fero walks in Ephrim's room with a bottle of wine in his hand. He delivers some poor excuses, about him being obviously stressed and how badly that affects the rest of them. 

So Ephrim finds himself laying on his back, pleasantly tipsy with Fero sitting cross-legged beside him. 

He wants to ask why. He doesn't want to ask why. It would almost certainly ruin the moment. But Fero is right here, he can feel his warm hand brushing against his shoulder. They rarely get a quiet moment alone like this. Ephrim finds himself wishing for more of those. He doubts Fero cares. He could ask. 

Instead, turns on his side, squinting up at his friend, and mumbles, words slurring. “You're quiet.”

Fero spares him a glance, then reaches to move a strand of dark red hair from his face. It's almost long enough to braid. As he does, Ephrim thinks how nice it would be if his hand just stayed there. Then he has just enough self awareness to feel kind of stupid about it. 

He's not sure why, but he tries again. “You're always so quiet when we're alone. Why?”

It looks as if Fero is searching for something in his expression, eyes bright but calm, or well, as calm as someone like Fero can be. Whatever he's looking for it seems like he's not finding it. 

“Are you angry at me?” he asks, avoiding eye contact but still keeping his eyes on Ephrim's face. The soft, quiet tone he speaks with reminds Ephrim of the way he does when he's scared that any wrong sound might ruin the moment. 

“No,” he says, frowning. “Why would I be?”

Fero shrugs. “People often are.”

“So are you.”

“That's fair I guess.”

They lapse into comfortable silence, the only sound disturbing the quiet being the howl of wind form the outside. There might be a storm. Fero drinks more of his wine. 

Ephrim doesn't think much before he pushes on. “Why does it bother you so much? That I'm a Lord now?”

It's not a question Fero expected, if his expression is anything to go by. He looks away, frowning. “It doesn't have to change anything between us. Except you're being difficult about it,” he adds. Well, he's being less difficult lately. That doesn't make Ephrim forget all the times before. 

A long time passes before Fero responds. It's possible it's not even that long, but it feels as such for Ephrim. Perhaps it's the wine. 

“I'm trying,” Fero says and lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don't understand it but I'm trying to.” 

Part of him wants to push more, ask what exactly is he trying, ask why does he have to understand, why is it such a big deal, why is he so angry. He realises then, that he's doing the same thing. Trying to understand. 

Ephrim hums. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yes,” he makes sure he's looking Fero in the eyes. He doesn't look too convinced. “I can see you're trying.”

It is true. There has been a noticeable shift. And while they've all changed in many ways through the years, Ephrim notices it most with Fero. Maybe it's because he's spent so much time not sure where they stand. He's still not quite sure, but it's different now. There's been less fighting, less bitter glares. Bit by bit, they find it easier to get along. Of course, Fero is still Fero, angry loudmouth halfling that he's always been, and Ephrim would never ask anything less of him. 

He's pulled out of his thoughts when Fero hums and sets the empty bottle aside. He's looking away from Ephrim, out of the window, where the stars and the one moon are softly lighting up the sky. 

“Why are you asking me then?” he mumbles, the question barely audible, like he's asking himself rather than Ephrim. 

Exhausted, and not really thinking, Ephrim wraps his hand around Fero's wrist and gently tugs him down where he's laying. Fero lets out a surprised yelp but doesn't resist as he's pulled in Ephrim's arms once again. He smells like pine trees, Ephrim notes to himself. It's quite nice. He moves a leaf from the mess that is his friend's hair, slowly drifting to sleep. 

Last thing he remembers before sleep overtook him is a brush of a hand on his cheek, and his own quiet voice murmuring. “I'm trying to understand too.”

There is a little wooden bird next to him when he wakes up. 

 

***

 

Fero leaves again, Ephrim stays. Fero comes back, and Ephrim welcomes him time and time again. 

'Coming back' doesn't mean he goes back to the University specifically, oftentimes Ephrim wouldn't even know he's back if Throndir didn't mention Fero helping him with getting food supplies. 

Ephrim rarely visits Fero himself, both because he doesn't want to pressure him, afraid how that would only push him away even further, and because he has work to do. Fero would roll his eyes dramatically at that, but what was previously bitterness has now turned more mellow. 

He still does call him Lord out of spite, but it's simply a familiar joke now. 

Though as things gradually get better and people aren't as miserable, Fero starts hanging around the University more often, much to Ephrim's surprise. Slowly, day by day, he's not as unexpected anymore. A considerable amount of time has passed before Ephrim realises that he's noticing when Fero _isn't_ around for the day, which used to be a completely normal, even expected thing. 

Which is how Ephrim finds himself kind of sad that Fero hasn't shown up for the celebration of the High Sun Day. 

He's not a religious person, Ephrim knows. But the religion itself is not the point here. People in their closest circle know what happened to Samothes, they know he can't hear them anymore, wasn't able to for a long time already. They know about Maelgwyn and Samol, that the gods aren't as powerful as they're always shown. 

None of that is important at the moment. The point of the festivity is to give people some sense of normality, a comfort. There is nothing better for that than holidays. 

So despite everything that has happened in the past, related or unrelated to Samothes, Ephrim enjoys himself. They have enough food, and thanks to a fruitful year it's good food, so it truly resembles the type of a celebration they used to have in the past. Thanks to Samol people have gotten their hands on various instruments so there is music as well. 

And dancing. Of course there's dancing. 

Ephrim laughs with Throndir as they look at how Hella subtly, or not so subtly, tries to get Adaire to dance with her. It's awkward and sweet, and they do end up dancing in the end, Hella awkwardly stepping on her partner's toes and Adaire laughing louder than Ephrim has ever heard her laugh.

Amongst the crowd he can easily spot Blue J, their weird fox draped across their neck, and Benjamin close to them. Rosanna comes around, dragging a very lost Hadrian, and they chat for a bit. It's oddly relaxing to talk with her now that they finally have time to talk about things that aren't so dire. 

In the midst of it all he almost forgets that Fero isn't here and how bummed out he feels about that. But then Red Jack shows up and steals Throndir for a dance, which prompts Hadrian to pull his wife to join them as well, and soon enough Ephrim is left alone with his thoughts. 

He's not surprised, to be honest. Or maybe he is a little bit. The point is, he shouldn't be. Why would he expect someone like Fero, who has always disliked this place and hardly gets along with people, to show up to an event like this? Sure, things have been going better, Fero has been working with others better too, but that doesn't mean anything has changed overnight. 

He's just kind of disappointed, really. Not at Fero specifically, just at the whole situation. At himself for hoping, for having feelings for the druid, of all people, who probably wouldn't give a shit, because he doesn't seem to even like Ephrim that much. 

Maybe he's being dramatic. It's not like he's gone forever he's just–

A bird just about flies right in his face. He stumbles and catches himself on the table behind, quickly apologising to people sitting there. Then he glares at the bird, as if it could understand the meaning of it. But as he glares he realises he does know this particular bird. 

Safewater is there, flying around him. Not for the first time inhis life, Ephrim wishes he could talk to birds. Safewater certainly knows where Fero is, the two are pretty much inseparable. He's witnessed many of their conversations, and though he can't understand a word of what they're saying, there is something about it, the way Fero's posture seems to relax and how he smiles in a way that's reserved for this bird only. There's something about seeing Fero so gentle, when what he mostly lets people see is his anger at the world and the unfairness of it. 

Before Ephrim gets to say anything, as if it would mean anything for a bird that doesn't understand him, Safewater flies higher, and in a next moment he's gone. Ephrim squints, tries to follow him and fails. 

As he's looking up though, he notices a person sitting on a window of one of the towers. 

There's Fero, leaning on the stone wall and looking down at the mass. 

Without thinking, or making a conscious decision, Ephrim walks towards the tower entrance. What is he doing? He's just going to ask if he wants to join them, that's all, it's fine. 

He feels a light touch on his shoulder as he passes Lem on his way there. He returns a quick smile, then continues on his way. 

It takes him way too long to climb upstairs. Of course Fero would pick the highest fucking place at the University. Damn him. 

When he finally gets there he's winded and only a tad annoyed. There is absolutely no reason for a building to be this tall. He takes a second to stand there, looking at Fero whose back is still turned to him. He doesn't seem to notice that he isn't alone anymore. 

“Hey,” Ephrim sighs and walks closer to the window. 

Fero whips his head around. “Oh. Hi! What's up?”

“Oh you know,” he leans agains the window frame, head resting against his palm. “Holidays. How come you aren't with the others?” 

“There's a bunch of people there,” Fero grumbles. 

“Not a fan of crowds?”

“Not at the moment.”

Fair. 

Ephrim notices that Safewater is nowhere to be seen. 

Fero keeps alternating between looking down where people are dancing and up at the stars and the moon, full tonight. 

His eyes winden for a second, a happy sound escaping him, and he nudges Ephrim, not looking away from the night sky. “Make a wish.”

“What?”

“A shooting star. You didn't see it?”

“No,” actually, he was too busy staring at Fero and thinking how pretty he looked in the moonlight. He should really get his shit together. 

“Whatever. You should still make a wish,” Fero insists. He looks at Ephrim expectantly. 

Ephrim smiles. “I don't think that's how this works?”

“It's a myth,” Fero rolls eyes. “Who cares how it works. It won't _actually_ work anyway.”

There Ephrim wants to protest. Why is it so difficult to believe in wishes from shooting stars in a world where a man can turn into any animal he thinks of, where gods walk the earth and die as any of them would, where magic is such a threat and a delight at the same time. In the world where actual stars walk among them, a world that is slowly being eaten away by the nothingness. 

But he doesn't protest, his mind takes him elsewhere. 

“Do you think it will happen soon?”

At the corner of his eye he sees Fero's eyebrows furrow a bit. “What will?”

“You know,” he gestures around with his hand. “The end of the world and all that.”

Now Fero's frowning, that stubborn glint in his eyes. “It doesn't _have_ to happen. We can still stop it, Ephrim.”

“Okay. Okay. But when do we do that?”

“I don't know,” he shrugs. “Why's that so important suddenly?”

“It has always been important,” Ephrim scoffs. Why is the timing of saving the world important? What a question. “But I've been thinking.”

“Sure have.”

He sighs. “Fero, it's been over a decade since we came here. Then, we were sure we done don't have more than a year. Year after we were sure we don't have more than a year. Every year we think the end is close but it never actually happens.” 

“Isn't that like, a good thing?” Fero asks, squinting at him. 

“Yes but,” he groans. It's never been easy for him to put his thoughts into words. People think he's good at it, good at big speeches and inspiring the crowd or whatever, but Ephrim has never felt like he does a good job at it. Emotions are even worse. “The uncertainty, it's– isn't it frustrating to you? Not knowing? Like, I keep thinking about things I want to do, right? But it's always no, I'll do it when this is done, I'll have more time then, there are more important things to deal with at the moment. The thing is we don't _know_. We can never be sure what day is our last.”

He breathes out and looks away from Fero. 

“That's always the deal though,” he hears him say. “This whole bullshit situation, it's bad, sure, but you never know when you're gonna die either way.”

“Comforting.”

“I'm not trying to be comforting. You should just do whatever you want to do.”

“Fero, I can't just– I am–”

“A Lord, yeah, sure. Whatever,” Ephrim isn't looking at him, but he knows Fero well enough to be sure that he's rolling his eyes dramatically. He can't pinpoint a moment when that has become endearing. “You're still a person first.”

The statement takes him aback. Perhaps it shouldn't. But Ephrim has always been a Prince first, his wishes had to overlap with the other's expectations. 

For a moment they sit there and listen to the music coming from the ongoing celebration on the ground, the sound of laughter carried by the gentle breeze. 

Fero speaks up, voice uncharacteristically soft, barely heard over the jovial music. “What is it you want?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said you keep thinking of things you wanna do but there's no time. What is it you want?”

In a moment, Ephrim's mind goes blank. What does he want? When he said that, he wasn't thinking of anything concrete. There are many ideas he's had over the years. But there is one thing he's been coming back to lately. 

“Right now, I really want to kiss you,” he admits. He doesn't quite realise he's saying it until the words are out of his mouth, no way of taking it back. 

He can feel Fero's gaze on him like fire on his skin. Wild, threatening, but comforting. 

“And how's the Heat and the Dark stopping you from doing that?” Fero asks. He says it so easily, like it's not meant to turn Ephrim's world upside down. 

Ephrim blinks at him. “I'm sorry?”

While he's stuttering, Fero uses that moment of surprise and hesitation to lean closer and kiss him. 

His lips are chapped, his hand clutching at the fur of Ephrim's cloak. Later he will have the time to marvel at how much gentler the kiss is than he ever imagined, but then as the initial shock pases he puts his hands on Fero's cheeks and pulls him closer. 

They pull away from each other just enough to breathe and Ephrim feels himself grinning. He leans his forehead against Fero's. “Seems like shooting stars work after all?”

Fero lets out a laugh, or a scoff, he's not sure. He lets his head fall on Ephrim's shoulder and pulls him in a tight hug. It's clumsy, considering he's still sitting on a windowsill, but at least he's the right height. Ephrim almost gets a mouthful of his hair. 

“That's a stupid thing to wish from a star,” Fero mumbles against his neck. He doesn't sound like he means it. 

They stay like that, holding each other close, and there's a feeling of peacefulness and lightness that Ephrim wishes he'd feel more often. Maybe. Maybe he will. He dares to hope. 

Fero breaks the silence, because of course he does. “Ephrim.”

“Hm?”

“Why'd you come up here?”

At that Ephrim pulls away, eyebrow raised. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yep.”

“I wanted to ask you to come downstairs.”

“Aw,” Fero grins. “You missed me?”

Ephrim shoots him a glare. It does nothing to erase the self satisfied grin from Fero's face, which kind of makes it a win despite the fact that it failed it's purpose.

“Okay,” Fero says and hops down from the window. “Let's go.”

“You sure? You said there's too much people.”

He shrugs, already walking towards the stairs. “I didn't feel like going. I feel like going now.”

So Ephrim follows him down the long stairwell. Outside, the stars seem to shine just a bit brighter. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I binged this podcast and this is the first thing i wrote so its probably ooc, sorry about that and about any language mistakes. Also idk where the last two parts fall in the canon timeline, probably after the trip theyre taking atm.  
> Thank you for reading!💛


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